The Quell (A Hunger Games Story)
by The Little Lightning Girl
Summary: It's the 100th Hunger Games, in a Panem where a revolution never occurred, and this fourth Quarter Quell has a devastating twist that leaves the tributes with broken hearts and spirits. Will they have the courage to fight through? Or will a ruthless killer destroy them all?
1. Prologue

Prologue

Meredith:

My name is in that bowl twenty-three times. That's all I'm thinking as I step into the crowd of people gathered in the square. Twenty-three times. The number of innocent kids who will soon die. Most people in District 9 only sign up for tesserae when they turn fourteen, but not me. As soon as I turned twelve, I marched out and signed my name on that dreaded slip of paper. Someone else wrote it carefully on thirteen slips. Slips that could have sentenced me to death. And this year, there are even more. But my family needs the extra food. I have four siblings, and me and my brother, Eric, are the only ones old enough to get tesserae. For some reason, he isn't eligible this year. So I'm left to provide my family with whatever extra morsels we can get.

As the speech is given, as the video is shown, I'm not paying attention. All I'm looking at is the big glass bowl on the right side of the stage. It seems like there are less slips in it this year, and a higher chance of my name being drawn. I attempt to convince myself I'm being paranoid, but to no avail.

Rosemarie:

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried. All of us in District 12 are. No one likes the Hunger Games, and this year is even worse than most. The Quarter Quell. The twist this year is that only one volunteer will be accepted from each district, but I suspect the arena will also be more dangerous. That's bad enough, but if I were to be chosen, I don't know how I'd be able to live with myself if I killed anyone.

Georgette:

District 8 has had a successful pass few weeks. Here, it's a tradition to buy a new reaping outfit every year from the village shops, so the store owners have been in business. The poorest of us don't follow this custom, however. Especially when we might never have a chance to wear the outfits again, due to extensive tesserae, and a large chance of getting drawn for the Games.

Link:

I fidget with the small contraption I made from scraps of my father's projects. He's one of the best technicians in District 3. I don't know if it's allowed to bring anything during the reaping, but I figure there's no harm. Unless I get caught when I walk up the stage. Not that that will happen.

Opal:

I've never been more nervous in my life. It's my first reaping, and I haven't signed up for any tesserae, as my family doesn't need it, but it's the Quarter Quell, and only children will be going to the games. In District 1, we twelve-year-olds don't usually have to worry about the Games, since a Career will usually volunteer to take our place, but this year, that won't help as much. Only one Career may compete for District 1, and even then, Careers aren't as common as they used to be.

Tanza:

A part of me hopes my name is the one that gets called. To escape the beatings and angry words of my mother would be a relief. But I can't say I'll volunteer if I'm not the one picked. Someone else in District 2 probably take care of that.

Kal:

I find it amusing that the train that will take the chosen tribute away to die was probably built by District 6. How awful it would be to be whisked away to danger on your own contraption.

Cedar:

In the District 7 Town Centre, I wait. I wait for the names to be called.

Meredith/Rosemarie/Georgette/Link/Opal/Kal/Cedar:

A hand dips into the bowl. A name is read off. And guess what?

It's me.

Tanza:

The name pulled from the bowl is not mine. It's my best friend Onya's. She gave me comfort during all those years of abuse. She is the only one who truly understands me. My eyes sting with tears. My heart fills with rage and sadness. Onya doesn't deserve to be on that stage. She deserves it less than anyone here. They say that winning the Games is an honor. That going is a good thing. And Onya could win. Except that if she had to kill anyone, it would break her. She's too kind. So when she is introduce and the announcer asks if anyone would like to take my place, I raise my hand.

"I volunteer".

List of Tributes

Opal, 12, District 1

Tedo, 16, District 1

Tanza, 17, District 2

Ziri, 15, District 2

Perl, 16, District 3

Link, 13, District 3

Azura, 17, District 4

Marlin, 15, District 4

Nina, 14, District 5

Buzz, 14, District 5

Enia, 15, District 6

Kal, 16, District 6

Cedar, 15, District 7

Jack, 16, District 7

Georgette, 14, District 8

Hessian, 18, District 8

Meredith, 13, District 9

Perrin, 15, District 9

Catherine, 16, District 10

Willow, 15, District 11

Amir, 17, District 11

Rosemarie, 17, District 12

Cole, 15, District 12


	2. Chapter 1: Strategy

Chapter 1

 _Rosemarie_

Riding the train is like nothing I've ever experienced. It takes off right away, and I can barely make out anything when I look out the window, except a few mountains in the distance. I stare out the unnaturally clean glass, until I realize it's given me a stomachache. Cole, the boy who was also chosen from District 12, is still crying. He cried when he got on stage, and his eyes were wet when he entered the train. I only shed a few tears when I talked to my parents and twin brother Axel in the hour we had before the train left. I needed to stay strong, and think about strategy. When the other tributes watch the reapings, they'll laugh Cole off as soon as they see his reaction. I would wonder if his fragile demeanor was an act, except for the fact that I don't know anyone who can fake that amount of tears.

My thoughts start to drift and I begin to worry about my family. Axel will be able to hunt just fine without me, and we have lots of meat left from the dear I shot a month ago, but will they stay strong? I don't want them to spend every second of their time concerned for me, I want them to make a plan for what happens if I don't make it back.

"Rosemarie? That's your name, right?" Cole says suddenly, startling me.

"Yes," I say, a little annoyed that he doesn't know for sure. People usually pay their full attention during the reaping.

"And you're Cole Hartland."

He looks a little surprised by my conveyance of knowledge, as if he doesn't understand what I'm trying to accomplish with it.

"It's Cole Hemland, actually," He says, studying my face.

I raise one eyebrow. I'm pretty sure I heard it right when they called his name.

"Really?" I say, but not in a questioning tone.

Cole drops his gaze.

"No. You got it right the first time," he says.

He's testing me. Testing me, but not in an inconspicuous way. At this point, I'd bet a week's catches that he won't win the Games.

Then again, people can surprise you. I'll have to keep an eye on Cole Hartland.

 _Cedar_

My thoughts cloud with memories, emotions, facts, and stress. I'll imagine a situation that could happen while I'm in the arena, how I'd deal with it, then imagine how my family would react if they saw me in that situation on screen. Bits of info I know about different herbs, animals, and weapons will pop up here and there. This process repeats for quite some time, maybe around a half hour, until I look up and notice Jack staring at me. He quickly turns his head away. I don't know how to react. Was he studying me, trying to figure out my flaws, my weaknesses? Or looking to see if I could be a potential friend? If the latter, the friendship couldn't last long.

We sit in silence for about a minute until I break it.

"Do you have any siblings?" I ask. Then I regret speaking.

He looks up at me.

"One. My little sister Amarita. She's only six," He says. "What about you?"

"My sister, Daphne and brother, Venley," I reply.

Jack nods. I hope that our mentor, Draca, will come in shortly to talk about strategy. This small talk is already getting awkward and tiring.

"You live in the Acres, right?" He asks.

I meet his gaze, surprised. I do live in the Acres. It's a big chunk of District 7 that has a lot of small houses and trees, although very few shops or actual groves. There is a small grove along the "border" though.

"How did you know that?"

Jack blushes.

"Well... Sometimes I see you walking home from school. I live in the Acres, too, towards the front side that faces the market. You like to climb the trees in the East Maple grove and watch the market fill with people."

I'm speechless for a second. I've only ever seen Jack a couple of times as far as I can remember- yet some how it's like he knows me.

"Ah...Oh," I say, turning away.

"I'm not a stalker or anything... It's just, since I take a similar route as you to get home, I can't help but to notice you, it's not on purpose, just, well..." He babbles.

"It's okay," I reassure.

I'm not bothered by his observance, almost flattered by it, in fact.

Soon we've launched into a full scale conversation about District 7, the market and Acres, our favorite foods, and even how much trouble our siblings can be. Eventually Glozella, our representative from the Capitol, parades into the room in her shiny green frilly dress and announces that dinner is ready, even though there have been snacks sitting on the table since we got here.

5 different main courses and around 8 sides are served by the chefs, and I'm struck by how large the amount of food is. No one could possibly eat this much. Do the leftovers just get thrown away? I couldn't imagine wasting such a huge portion of food.

There's turkey, sausage, steak, rolls, salad, potato salad, egg, relish, cheese, beets, creamed spinach, brisket, and more. I immediately grab for one of the steaks. It's my favorite food, but I rarely ever have it. I'm lucky to get steak more than once every two years. Next, I take a roll, some cheese, brisket, sausage, and potato salad. Glozella looks in distaste at the irrational amount of food I've piled on to my plate.

"Sorry," I mutter, "It's just we don't get that much to eat in District 7-"

"Oh, no, it's fine, darling," Glozella reassures, "But don't make yourself sick."

I fail to follow Glozella's request and soon feel like my stomach is about to explode. Waves of nausea crash over me. I don't think I'll throw up, but I probably shouldn't eat dessert.

"If you eat like that in the Games, you'll be so slow you'll get caught by one of the twelve-year-olds," Draca remarks.

I glance at her.

"I doubt that will be an option."

Draca rolls her eyes but smiles.

"So, have you two come up with any strategies yet?" She asks us.

"Um..." I stall, looking at Jack nervously.

He seems friendly, like I can trust him, but I'm not sure I want him knowing my game plan. I decide to play it safe.

"No, not really," I respond.

It's mostly true. I've come up with a few ideas based on my skill set, but not enough for a full strategy.

Jack stares at me for a second. I realize that I'm being too obvious with my hesitation.

"Yeah," he says, "I mean, a few ideas, but not much."

Dammit. Now Draca will think he's more dedicated than I am to survival. A few ideas are better than none at all.

"Do you have any tips for us?" I ask, hoping to improve my status with our mentor.

"Well, what do you want know?" She answers.

"What's a good way to make sure we always have food?" Jack asks.

It's a good question. I'm beginning to think of Jack more as competition than a friend.

"Well, it depends on the arena," Draca responds. "If it has significant vegetation, which is likely, look for edible plants. Mint, dandelion, burdock, chicory, fireweed, even clovers. If you're near a marsh, you can gather cattail roots."

"And how do we identify these plants?" I ask.

"You'll learn that in your training, as well as what plants not to eat. But I can tell you one thing: Stay away from red vines."

This isn't really related to my question, but I'm curious.

"Why?"

Draca grimaced. "In my Games, there was this type of vine that the Gamemakers conjured up. It was always dark red. The vine looked like a type of edible plant, but once you touched it, it would wrap around you and pull you up in the tree. I learned that the hard way."

I'm a little impatient. Draca is getting off topic, and food is more important than a trap that probably won't be used again.

"What about food?" Jack asks, practically reading my mind. "Anything else about that?"

"Well, many tree barks are edible, including pine. Only the inside of the bark, though. And some insects are edible, like grasshoppers and crickets. You can also eat earthworms, termites and slugs." She replies.

I shudder at the thought of eating an insect or bug. My family has never resorted to that, even in the roughest times. And thankfully, too.

Draca teaches us more about foraging for food, making shelter, finding water, until we all get tired.

I lie down for a nap, and yawn. "Just a few minutes," I say. Soon, I'm sound asleep.

 _Tanza_

Ziri has gotten on my nerves for the last time. I'm struggling to not walk across the room and strangle him. He keeps asking our mentor, Aaron, useless questions, like, "What kind of arena do you think it will be?" And "What do you do if someone attacks you?" Obviously Aaron doesn't know what the arena will be like! And what type of attack is it? Whenever I try and ask my own question, Ziri pipes up again. What a waste of time.

I find my own room, and begin to strategize. I'm going to win this game, I decide. I don't care who I have to kill.

First I decide what my approach will be during the interview. Knowing but charming seems the right way to go. If possible sponsors think I have a plan, they'll bet on me.

And during training, I'll learn new skills and get on the other tributes' good sides. Allies will make good pawns.

By the end of the day, my strategy is mostly figured out.

I head to my room, and put on my nightgown. As I climb in bed, my eyes start to close, when suddenly, the idea hits me.

I grin.

There's no way I can lose now.


End file.
